


Calla My Issues Maybe

by angelofthequeers



Series: Beelicious [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Jack Kline, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, And Dean is just the best boyfriend, And little nougat baby Jack, Angst, Awesome Balthazar (Supernatural), Awesome Dean Winchester, Balthazar loves The Bachelorette, Basically Cas struggles with being a dad, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Castiel has Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flowers, Fluff, Gen, He'll never actually admit it though, Implied Sexual Content, Jack Kline Loves Nougat, Jealousy, Kissing, Language of Flowers, M/M, Parenthood, Romance, Seriously I love Balthazar so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthequeers/pseuds/angelofthequeers
Summary: Cas wasn't expecting it to be all sunshine and rainbows when he agreed to adopt Jack. He expected the usual parenting struggles: defiant child, tantrums, picky eating...you name it. He just wasn't expecting to bejealous, of all things.(I am so sorry for the title of this)





	Calla My Issues Maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LokiNeedsHugs1031](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiNeedsHugs1031/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.
> 
> …Jesus, it’s been six months since I last updated. But I do have a totally legitimate excuse: I may have signed up for the DeanCas Big Bang and the Team Free Will Big Bang, so it’s not like I haven’t been writing. Not allowed to share details yet, but after I burned out with my original writing (thanks, NaNo), they’ve been keeping me occupied for the past few months.   
> This one’s pretty heavy on the angst, but I also feel like it’s necessary. I didn’t want to go the route of the usual woes of child-raising, but this just flowed from my fingertips once I got started, and it’s necessary for Cas to start actually being able to heal, because kicking one guy in the gonads won’t just solve everything.
> 
> For my bestie, since her baby niece just said the l-word literally as I finished this and got ready to publish, and there's no way I can't marvel at the coincidence.

“What’s that?”

“That’s a rose, Jack,” Cas said, fixing up the roses that Jack was staring at so that they rested appealingly in their pot. Repositioning a flower by a few inches might be pedantic, but hell if Cas didn’t pride himself on his presentation. Beelicious hadn’t earned its reputation for nothing.

“I’m hungry.”

“Well, I close up in…” Cas shot a look at the bee clock hanging behind the counter. “Five minutes. You can have a small snack before lunch when we get home.”

“Nougat?” Jack perked up, grinning toothily and showing off his missing tooth.

“ _No_ ,” Cas said immediately. “I swear, I’ll never forgive Dean for encouraging your sweet tooth. Or Gabriel for even giving you that sweet tooth in the first place.”

“But Uncle Cas!” Jack whined.

“I said no, Jack.”

“I like Dean better,” Jack mumbled, kicking his legs as he slouched on the counter. “He gives me nougat.”

Something lurched in Cas’ gut, and he busied himself with the chrysanthemums next to the roses to hide his grimace from Jack. He didn’t regret adopting Jack at all – it had been a favour, yeah, but he genuinely did love his second cousin – but Dean…Dean had a special way with Jack that Cas didn’t have. Hell, Dean had a special way with kids, period. Just add that to Dean’s extensive list of skills.

Yeah, Cas needed to stop comparing himself to Dean. Dean had scolded him _months_ ago for that. But with Jack constantly criticising Cas while being a little angel for Dean, it was kind of hard for Cas to not compare himself all the time.

Half an hour later, Cas had closed up shop and was pushing their front door open with one hand, Jack holding his other. He tried to smile and act like it was the cutest thing ever when Jack immediately bounded over to Dean and shrieked in delight as Dean whirled him around playfully, but it was hard to ignore the nauseating hook in his stomach and the dark thoughts murmuring at the edge of his mind when presented with the fact that he just wasn’t good enough.

“Hey, handsome.” A grinning Dean was suddenly wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Cas closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation, trying to push every bit of darkness to the far depths of his mind. “How’s it been, having Jack at work?”

“It can get a little trying when he needs a nap or gets bored,” Cas admitted, fiddling with the hem of Dean’s shirt. Dean shivered under his fingertips when he slipped his fingers up and inside, tracing Dean’s warm skin. “I may need to section off a small area of the store as his space.”

“Pity I can’t take him to the garage on weekends,” Dean said. “Just no place for a kid, even if I keep him in the office. And we can’t exactly ask Charlie or Balthazar to babysit him every weekend.”

“I should’ve thought this through more before agreeing to adopt him,” Cas said. “But I don’t regret this one bit.”

“Neither do I.” Dean pecked Cas on the lips, then frowned. “You okay, sunshine? You seem a bit down.”

Cas forced a smile onto his face and extracted himself from Dean’s embrace. “I’m fine. Just tired. If I go have a shower, can you fix Jack a small snack that won’t fill him up for lunch? _Not_ sugary rubbish!” he called over his shoulder.

“Me?” Dean looked at Jack and dramatically clasped a hand over his heart, making Jack giggle. “I would never!”

Cas laughed right until he shut the bathroom door, where he slid down to the cool tile and buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t coping. It wasn’t raising Jack that was the problem; it was the fact that once again, he was second best to someone else. And because Dean was the favourite, he was spending more time with Jack, which left him less time to be with Cas.

Right. This called for an intervention of the Balthazar kind. But first, Cas was going to take a shower…right after he sat in a depressive slump for ten minutes because a damn five-year-old child didn’t like him. Then, if he wasn’t going to see Balthazar, it would be a few hours of pretending that he wasn’t being a sullen child, then bed, where he and Dean most likely wouldn’t end up having hot sex because of the possibility of Jack walking in at any minute. They didn’t even have their Saturday date nights anymore, due to not wanting to rope their friends into playing babysitter just so they could watch shitty movies and then bang each other a few times.

Yeah. Life was great.

* * *

 

The beautiful thing about Balthazar was that even if he was neck-deep in something – or balls-deep, if one wanted to be more accurate – he would always put it aside when Cas needed help. Thankfully, it was a case of the former rather than the latter when Cas knocked on his door that afternoon.

“This had better be important,” Balthazar grumbled, but he escorted Cas into the living room with his usual flair, so he probably wasn’t all that annoyed. “I was in the zone.”

“The zone?” Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, the zone. I’ve taken up writing, you see.”

“ _Writing_?” Cas blurted out as Balthazar handed him a glass of chardonnay (“White wine for _mes amis_ , red for…well, you get the picture, Cassie.”). “I didn’t know that you were even aware of what basic grammar was.”

“Oh, I’m a terrible writer,” Balthazar said, sitting on the other armchair with his own glass of wine. “But apparently it’s very easy to charm the ladies – and the emotional gentlemen – when you claim to be a writer. My poetry is possibly the most appalling around. But rattle off a love verse or two and they’re putty in my hands.”

“I should have known that you wouldn’t do anything that wouldn’t benefit your second head,” Cas muttered.

“Well, as much as I could go on about myself, you’re not here on a Saturday afternoon for that when you could be spending the time with that fine piece of ass you call a boyfriend,” Balthazar said. “So, Cassie, spill. Not the wine, of course.”

Cas spilled. Everything he was shoving deep down to hide from Dean came bursting out, and Balthazar listened with the kind of sharp attentiveness that made Cas feel like, for a little while, his crap was actually important.

“…and I don’t want to be jealous of a _kid_ ,” Cas finished, halfway through his second glass of wine. “I love Jack. I really do.”

“But now you’re competing with a child for your man’s affections,” Balthazar said. “My, you always land yourself in the saltiest of pickles.”

Cas’ eye twitched. Goddamn Balthazar and his love of pickles.

“You know, you wouldn’t be imposing on me at all by asking me to watch the munchkin on the weekend,” Balthazar said. “Even if I was to watch him on Saturdays while you two work your fine asses off. And for a while on Sundays, so that you and Dean can have a few quiet hours to engage in the finer pleasures of life. God knows you need a good lay to loosen you up.”

“ _Bal_.”

“What?  I’m certain Jack would be thrilled to see his Uncle Bal.”

“That doesn’t fix the problem of me being second-best to a damn _kid_ ,” Cas said miserably. “What do I need to do to make him like me? He sees Dean as a perfect god compared to me.”

“Because you’re the bad cop,” Balthazar said rather wisely, sipping his drink. “You’re the enforcer of discipline. Somebody has to be, and that job unfortunately falls to you. Dean happens to be the good cop.”

“ _I_ want to be the good cop! Do you know what it’s like to be constantly rejected by your own family?” Cas drained his glass, holding back a sniffle. “Because I’m trying to be understanding, Bal. We’ve had Jack for a few months now, so he’s finally starting to settle. But he rejects me for Dean time and time again, and all I can think of is how the rest of my family sees me as some inferior piece of –”

“Right, I’m afraid you’ve had enough of that.” Balthazar plucked the wine glass from Cas’ trembling hand. “I do have to say, you’ve got me beat with this one, Cassie. All I can say is that there will come a time when Jack needs you, the bad cop, and not Dean. Don’t ask me when. Don’t ask me why. But trust me when I say that Jack will come to you at some point.”

“Awfully wise for someone who’s never had kids,” Cas mumbled, eyeing the bottle of chardonnay. Balthazar deftly slid it out of reach down to the other end of the coffee table.

“This horndog knows some tricks,” he said cheerfully. “Now, what I’m going to do is call your boy toy and say that we’re spending the afternoon doing good friend things. Painting each other’s nails, braiding our hair, gossiping, etcetera.”

“Did you really just say ‘etcetera’?”

“Shove it, Cassie. Being the amazing friend that I am, I’m allowing you to stay here and work off the wine rather than shoving you back home with your rather…loose lips that emerge when you drink. But if you’d rather nit-pick my choice of words –”

“No, no.” Cas slumped in his seat, slightly lightheaded from the alcohol but not actually drunk. “Here’s good. Let me wallow in my misery of never being anyone’s favourite person.”

Tsking, Balthazar shook his head in a rather condescending manner as he stood up and took Cas’ glass into the kitchen. But he did bring a generous serving of Cas’ favourite cookie dough ice cream, so all was forgiven.

“If it means anything to your addled brain, you happen to be my favourite person,” Balthazar said, pouring himself a third glass of wine. Of course that asshole had high alcohol tolerance. “Granted, that was rather up for debate whenever you would walk in on me and my…ahem, intimate friends. But overall, the sentiment is there.”

“Thanks, Bal.” Cas shoved a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, but he couldn’t help smiling around the chilly metal. He could always count on Balthazar when in need. “I need to treat you better. Seems like I only see you when I need to dump my crap on you.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Balthazar said. “Playing unlicensed therapist to my best friend is also a huge hit with the amorous public. ‘A sensitive soul’, they call me. But if you really want to spend time with me outside of procuring free psychological help, you can stay for dinner and assist me in loudly booing every overcompensating man on _The Bachelorette_. I’m sure your little housewife can take care of your baby for the night.”

“Dean’s not my housewife,” Cas muttered, but he pulled his legs up to tuck them under his body and get comfy on the soft armchair.

* * *

 

True to his word, Balthazar came around the next morning to take Jack out for ice cream and then to the park, giving Cas and Dean a few precious hours to just do nothing together. There was sex, of course, but just being able to spend that time with Dean was absolutely invaluable to Cas, and he found himself wondering what the hell he’d done to deserve Balthazar as a friend while lying in Dean’s arms after their lazy round of sex.

“Mmm, I think Balthazar had the right idea,” Dean sighed, carding his fingers through Cas’ hair. “If he’s serious about watching Jack on Saturday mornings and for half of Sunday or whatever, I’ll kiss him myself.”

“I don’t like that idea,” Cas said with drooping eyelids, clinging to Dean like an octopus. “Balthazar might get ideas, and I’m not one for threesomes. Especially not with my best friend.”

Dean snorted loudly. They lapsed into silence after that, enjoying the peace of each other’s company, but a dark claw of despair still had a grip on Cas’ heart despite the amazing day he’d had. This still didn’t fix the problem of Jack not liking him.

It was something that continued to eat at him all week, to the point where his fake smiles weren’t even fooling Jack anymore. This led to Jack shying away from him even more when not at school, which only worsened Cas’ depression, but what could he do? He couldn’t grab Jack and demand that the kid like him. He didn’t have any of Dean’s natural charm. He wasn’t the good cop, so there was no ‘sneaking’ Jack small treats and winking conspiratorially, like they were doing something super naughty. He…he wasn’t Dean.

“Hey, sunshine.” Dean greeted Cas at home after work on Friday with a kiss and a hand behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” Cas said. The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched.

“You’ve been a bit down lately,” he said. “So…” He produced a potted calla lily from behind his back. “Thought I’d get you a little something to cheer you up.”

“‘Beauty’,” Cas murmured, accepting the flower. The white purity of the flower seemed to almost mock him, reminding him that he could never be as perfect as this beautiful thing. In Jack’s eyes, he wasn’t nearly as perfect as Dean.

“I was actually gonna give the flower to you straight,” Dean said with a sheepish grin. “Then I read that it can be poisonous if you touch it, so I figured I’d get a pot and we could put it somewhere out of Jack’s reach. Kinda describes you, y’know?” Dean’s grin changed into a sly one. “Beautiful but kinda dangerous.”

‘Beautiful but kinda dangerous’. Before Cas could help it, a sniffle escaped him, and he had just enough time to put the lily down before bursting into loud tears, burying his face in the sleeves of his shirt.

“Shit – goddammit.” Hands gently guided Cas to walk a few steps, then sink down on the couch. He buried his face in rough cloth that smelled potently of Dean, grounding himself with Dean’s scent, finally letting all his frustration escape as he broke down. Dean said nothing, instead just sitting there and letting Cas sob it all out like the weak little shit he was.

“Sorry,” Cas croaked when words were once more a thing.

“Hey, don’t apologise.” Dean kissed the top of his head. “Don’t ever apologise for that.”

“Why not?” Cas stamped his foot in frustration. “I’m _weak_ , Dean! Just when I think I’m starting to finally make sense of myself and stop breaking down at every little thing, I end up just breaking down at every little thing!”

“You think I never have my moments?” Dean said. “I’m just better at hiding ‘em. You’re not weak for not magically bein’ over all your issues.”

Cas shook his head wildly and tried to pull away, to lock himself in their room and deal with this himself instead of dragging Dean into it, but Dean refused to let him budge an inch.

“What brought this on?” Dean said. “You’ve been off all week. Ever since last Saturday.”

“Nothing –”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that. Spill, Cas.”

“It’s – it’s Jack.” Cas slumped against Dean.

“Jack? But we’ve been doing so well with him! Are you –”

“Of course I don’t want to get rid of Jack!” Cas shook his head violently. “No way! I love Jack so much. I – I just wish he felt the same way about me.”

“You wish – Cas, that kid loves you!”

“Clearly not.” Cas couldn’t help the note of bitterness that crept into his voice. “He sees it as a chore whenever he has to be around me, since he’s so eager to be with you. And when you can’t even get a _child_ to like you –”

“Oh my god, you’re jealous of Jack coming to me more? Cas, that kid loves you to bits. He likes you far more than me.”

“No –”

“You wanna know what he told me?”

Cas mutely shrugged, steeling himself for whatever reassuring crap Dean would pull out like the amazing boyfriend he was.

“He said that it’s easy to get along with me, but he really wants you to like him.”

“I – but I _do_ like him!” Cas shook his head, as though that would block out Dean’s words.

“I know that. But to Jack, all you ever do is scold him. You know when you came home from work last Saturday? Jack told me you sounded…well, annoyed when he asked you questions.”

Cas’ stomach dropped, and he had to swallow down the nausea that was rising in his throat. Jesus, he was – he was becoming his _parents_! Naomi and Bart hadn’t been the worst parents, but they hadn’t been the best either, and a large part of Cas’ problems came from their…well, indifference. Unless Cas was meeting their high expectations, they really couldn’t have cared less; especially when it came to Anna, his older and more successful journalist sister, or his younger brother Jonah’s incredible intellect. He wasn’t indifferent to Jack – no way! – but…

“Cas, what –” Dean started to say as Cas jerked away and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. Head down and an iron band around his chest, Cas practically sprinted to their room and slammed the door shut behind him, immensely regretting having never installed a lock because Dean was sure to come after him. So to avoid Dean, Cas ended up in their bed, pulling the covers over his head and burying his face in the pillow so he could sink his teeth into it and avoid losing his shit _again_. It was hard to draw in breath with the way his chest was constricting, and Cas had to gulp in air around his swollen, tingling tongue, trying to ground himself and not flip out. An anxiety attack was _not_ something Jack needed to see.

Sure enough, the door creaked open after a moment. “Cas?” Dean said softly into the oppressive silence of the room. Cas ignored him, choosing instead to curl up and be a weak, miserable shit, as much as Dean would’ve scolded him for thinking that way. It was kind of hard not to be self-deprecating when your own brain was working against you. “Okay, I’ll just – I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

Cas shivered when the door snapped shut. He was being such a _child_ about this! All he had to do was get up and go ask Dean for a hug, and Dean would be more than happy to oblige. But that was comfort, and when Cas was in a headspace like this, comfort was an undeserved luxury instead of an expected, everyday thing. Comfort was imposition on others, and despite all his months with Dean, it was still very difficult to fight off the ingrained notion that asking for comfort was a burden and not an integral part of a relationship.

How was Arthur _still_ messing him up even _now_? He’d stood up to the guy! He’d quite literally hit out at his problems! And yet…and yet he still wasn’t better. Facing his problem hadn’t miraculously cured him of his issues. If he was really being honest with himself, this one was a lot more Meg than Arthur. Sure, Arthur had acted as though being expected to actually be there for his boyfriend was a chore, but he still _had_ comforted Cas. Cas had just paid for it later. Meg, however, had vehemently shied away from anything resembling emotional stuff and had strongly shamed Cas for even daring to think about it. Yeah, being with Arthur had been the most painful, but being with Meg…that had been the loneliest.

The bedroom door creaking open again snapped Cas out of his mental train wreck. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself so that he didn’t talk to Dean like crap and end up making everything worse, not that it would be the first time.

“Leave me alone, Dean,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Let me stew in my misery in peace.”

When the door closed, Cas sagged into the bed and shifted his face so that he didn’t suffocate in the pillow, because the last thing Dean needed was to come and find that his boyfriend had accidentally killed himself in the most ridiculous way possible. Wallowing in misery? Awesome. Suicidal tendencies? Not so much. There was no danger of that, since Cas was too terrified to even try because yay, anxiety.

He stiffened when the bed next to him dipped. So Dean hadn’t actually left, but rather was going to actually be a good boyfriend and comfort him and let him be a clingy octopus because yay for neediness. Cas lifted his head to tell Dean to go away, blinking as light finally hit his eyes again, but the words died in his mouth when he saw that it wasn’t Dean on the bed next to him, but Jack instead.

“Jack?” Cas said. “What –?”

Without a word, Jack burrowed underneath Cas’ arm, forcing Cas to roll back onto his side so that the child could snuggle up to Cas’ chest. Cas’ mouth had gone dry. Had Dean put Jack up to this? Was this Dean’s way of trying to comfort him? The gesture was nice, but pity wasn’t –

“You’re sad,” Jack said into Cas’ chest, clutching Cas’ shirt with one hand. On autopilot, Cas wrapped an arm around his cousin and held him close, his other hand resting gently in Jack’s pale brown hair. “I like hugs when I’m sad.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Blinking rapidly to quell the stinging in his eyes, Cas pressed a quick kiss to the top of Jack’s head. “I owe you an apology. I like you a lot. Don’t ever think that I hate you. And I don’t mean to tell you off all the time. I’m just…I’m not used to caring for a child. Dean took care of his brother, so he knows what to do. I…I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Cas sniffled into Jack’s hair, hugging the child tighter. Jack reached up and patted Cas’ cheek with one small, clumsy hand.

“There, there,” Jack said in his adorable little voice. “Are you sad? Mommy was sad. You should see a the – ther –”

“Therapist?” Cas said, the word burning like acid in his mouth. Jack nodded against his chest.

“Mommy was sad like you. But she saw a therpest and felt better.”

Cas swallowed. Seeing a therapist was antithesis to everything he stood for. Not because he disbelieved in them, but rather because that would mean actually facing his issues, and that was probably the most terrifying thing he could think of. How could he put it into words to a complete stranger? It had taken months to even be able to start talking about it with Dean beyond ‘my exes this’ and ‘my issues that’.

“Uncle Dean’s like Mommy,” Jack continued. “I like him. But I haven’t had a daddy. Mommy said my daddy was a scary, bad man.”

“He was a bad man,” Cas said. “He did a lot of bad things. But he’s gone and locked up in jail and he’s never going to see you. I won’t ever let him near you.”

“Want you to be my daddy. You’re good. Daddy’s bad. So he’s not my daddy.”

Something caught in Cas’ throat, and he squeezed Jack tighter. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe he did need to see someone and start sorting his head out. He couldn’t keep going around in a blanket of issues, blaming everyone except himself and then running to Balthazar for wine and ice cream and shitty reality TV when things got tough. If a therapist had helped Kelly deal with her depression – because of course it would just be ‘sadness’ to Jack, but Cas knew better – then maybe seeing one could help with his anxiety and other issues.

“I’m sorry for being bad to you, Jack,” Cas said. “I’m…” He paused, fumbling for a way to explain mental issues to a five-year-old. “I’m kind of sad like your mommy but not the same. And I was bad to you because I thought you didn’t like me and that made my sadness worse, so I was even badder to you.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Cas. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “You have nothing to apologise for, Jack. You didn’t make me sad. It’s my fault.”

“Thought you didn’t like me because you never give me nougat like Uncle Dean does.”

Cas let out a small laugh despite himself. “Uncle Dean is different to me. He’s the good cop who teaches you to do naughty things, like eating sugar before lunchtime and jumping on the couch. I’m the bad cop who teaches you how to be a good boy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you, Jack. I do it because I love you and I want you to be a good person. Even if I tell you to do things you don’t like, I do it because I love you. And if I talk meanly to you, that’s because I’m angry or sad and that’s not okay. But that doesn’t mean I hate you.”

“I understand now,” Jack mumbled against Cas’ shirt. “Love you too, Uncle Cas.”

They remained lying there until Jack’s breathing evened out and he snoozed in Cas’ arms. Cas shifted, intending to slide out and leave Jack on the bed, but Jack made a small sound and clung tighter to Cas in sleep, effectively imprisoning Cas with him on the bed.

“Aww.” Dean leaned against the doorframe, smirking at Cas. “How adorable.”

“Shut it, Dean,” Cas growled, then froze when Jack let out a small snore and burrowed deeper into his arms. Dean’s smirk softened into a smile.

“I’ll bring you a sandwich or something, okay?” he said. “Or I can wake him up for you? He’ll be up all night if you let him sleep now.”

Cas briefly considered waking Jack, then discarded the thought. This was a precious, timeless moment, and if it never ended then Cas would be the happiest person alive. Hell, the only thing that would make it better would be having Dean in bed too. And if Jack was awake all night, so be it. Cas could afford to not open Beelicious tomorrow and sleep in.

“Leave him,” Cas said. “If we wake him, he’ll be cranky. I’ll stay up and play with him if I have to.”

Dean’s grin widened. “I’ll go make you a sandwich, then. You can eat dinner when you get up.”

When Dean returned with two ham and cheese sandwiches on a plate, he surprised Cas by sliding into bed and snuggling up to Cas, taking care not to jostle Jack. He handed the sandwiches to Cas with a kiss, and Cas had to balance the plate on his thigh and eat with one hand, since his other hand was held captive by Jack. But he didn’t mind one bit.

“Heard what you said to Jack,” Dean said, nuzzling into Cas’ neck. “Can’t believe I didn’t notice –”

“Please don’t start blaming yourself,” Cas said. “I have my ways of hiding my true troubles as well. But…Jack’s right.” He ran his fingers through Jack’s hair, then picked up the second half of his first sandwich. “I need to see someone and deal with my issues. It was never fair to take them out on you, but now I’ve also got Jack to care for as well. And I can’t afford to lash out at him like I do with you. Not that you deserve it – I just – you’re an adult –”

“Hey, I get it.” Dean slid a hand into Jack’s cage-like grip and laced his fingers with Cas’. “I get it. I wanted to suggest it to you when we first got Jack, but I didn’t wanna imply that I thought you were weak or anything. Because I don’t. And I know I’d pitch a fit if you said it to me.”

“There’s something about it coming from a child, isn’t there?” Cas said. “Now I just have to worry about being able to afford –”

“Hey. Don’t start panicking. We’ll figure it out, yeah? You know I’m in it with you no matter what. And now that Balthazar’s okay with taking Jack for a bit on Sundays, we’ll have time with each other. I think that’s also a big reason why you’re kinda more messed-up lately.”

Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “I wake up every day and wonder what I did to deserve you. And I’m never able to find the answer.”

“Quit bein’ such a sap, Cas,” Dean grumbled, but he still kissed the top of Cas’ head. Cas just hummed, eyes still closed, and sank further into Dean’s embrace, still holding Jack close.


End file.
